


Be a Better Man

by That_Damn_Dixon_Boy (dracogotgame)



Category: The Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - No Zombie Apocalypse, But he's trying, Established Relationship, Fights, M/M, Making Up, Merle Dixon (mentioned) - Freeform, One Shot, Shane is a douche sometimes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-17
Updated: 2018-01-17
Packaged: 2019-03-06 06:02:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,221
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13404972
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dracogotgame/pseuds/That_Damn_Dixon_Boy
Summary: Shane's got a big mouth, and Daryl is pissed.





	Be a Better Man

**Author's Note:**

> If nobody else is going to write for this pairing, then I will. Sharyl deserves more love!

Shane admits it.

This is not one of his finer moments.

“Sweetheart, come on,” he pleads half-heartedly. “Don’ be like that.”

Daryl just walks faster, practically sprinting in his haste to get away from him. Shane barely has a second to blink before the door slams shut in his face.

“God damn it.” He sighs and pinches the bridge of his nose.

The way he sees it, he’s got two choices. He can stay out here and put this fight off a bit longer— even if it means being banished from _his own fucking house_ by his furious boyfriend…

...or he can be a man and deal with this right now.

In Daryl’s defence, he’s right to be pissed.

Sure, things got out of hand back at the bar but Shane should _not_ have said…well, what he said. It was a dumbass move and he should have known better, he gets it. Rick always said his big mouth was going to get him in shit one of these days.

He really should start listening to Rick.

Anyway, his mouth got him _in_ to this mess, and it was going to get him out. It’s not like he had a choice, he _had_ to fix this. Shane admitted to being an asshole with most people— he didn’t even have to try most times, it just came naturally to him— but with Daryl…

Daryl brought out something else in him. Something…better. Daryl brought out his good side— a gentler version of him. With Daryl, he became better— gentle, protective, patient and less likely to fly off the handle when he felt threatened or challenged.

Except tonight, he did. He let Daryl down.

He hated letting Daryl down. That’s why he needed to fix this right now.

“I’m coming in.”

Maybe it’s stupid to announce his presence like this. Daryl does have a cross-bow. Still, Shane takes a chance and slips in.

Daryl shoots him a dark scowl. He ignores Shane completely and resumes lacing up his boots. His cross bow is on the table, all ready to go.

“Where the hell are you goin’?” Shane asks, instinctively blocking the doorway.

“Huntin’,” Daryl bites out. “Gonna be gone a few days.”

Something cold settles in Shane’s chest. The thought of Daryl just up and leaving is rattling, and he can’t help the sudden spark of jealousy in his gut.

“Who with? Merle?”

Daryl’s narrow eyes flash with anger. “No,” he spits back. “Don’t want nothin’ to do with both y’all right now.” He’s up in a smooth pounce, grabbing his bow and shouldering past Shane. “Lemme through, Walsh.”

Shane grabs him before he can get too far. It’s a stupid move— not his first tonight and apparently he’s going for some kind of record. Not surprisingly, Daryl shoves him roughly and nearly knocks the wind out of him. Still, Shane holds on, pulling the younger man close and peppering soothing kisses to his neck.

“I’m sorry,” he murmurs, between soft pecks. “I fucked up. I’m sorry, okay? Don’t go, babe. Please?”

Daryl is not impressed. He struggles in Shane’s death grip, spitting and cursing every which way.

“I know, I know,” Shane pleads. His kisses become more urgent, his hold tightens. He’s holding on for dear life now, determined to make Daryl stay here. With him. “I shouldn’t have dragged you into it. It’s just…your brother’s an _ass,_ Daryl.”

“You ain’t no better,” Daryl tells him, and damn it, he’s right. “You jus’ run your mouth like…ya jus’ said that shit to make him mad!”

And _damn,_ had Merle been mad. Shane winces as Daryl’s head knocks against his bruised chin.

“Come on,” he groaned, tightening his grip around Daryl’s waist. “Said I was sorry. It’s not like _he_ held back. Got a couple good hits in, didn’t he?”

Daryl finally breaks out of his hold. He whirls around, fist half raised and eyes still sparking. He’s still spitting mad. And fucking beautiful, Shane realises. Despite everything, he grins. Sometimes, he can’t believe he got lucky enough to wake up to this gorgeous guy every day.

All the more reason to keep him here.

“The fuck ya smiling about?” Daryl spits.

Shane’s grin widens. He’s feeling more confident, now that Daryl is actually talking to him again. Even if it is mostly cussing. Hell, he’d take what he could get.

“I didn’t lie to him or nothin’,” he points out, with a cocky shrug. “Ain’t my fault he can’t handle the truth.”

Daryl just glares back. But he lowers his fist, just a little. “Asshole,” he grumbles. “You damn near wrecked the bar.”

Shane hums and pulls him over again. His lips trail a path down Daryl’s collar bone. A small, dark part of him purrs at the resulting shiver going through the taut body in his arms.

“I was jus’ havin’ a conversation,” he argues, nipping Daryl’s ear gently. “Your asshole brother punched me first.”

“Ya know what ya said,” Daryl grumbles, even as he leans imperceptibly into the soft kisses. “Knew he was gonna flip his shit.”

Yeah, he did. But it had been worth it to rile Merle Dixon up. Besides, Daryl was caving. Shane could feel his tense frame softening, the resistance melting.

Time to bring it home.

“I’m sorry,” he whispers, pressing one last kiss right below Daryl’s ear. “I know you want us to get along, babe. I’ll try, okay?”

“Ain’t gonna happen,” Daryl says. But he doesn’t sound too broken up about it. He sighs and leans into Shane’s chest. His grip on the cross-bow comes loose and it falls to the floor. Shane heaves a sigh of relief, which immediately turns into a groan of pain when Daryl punches his arm.

Then he’s right back to curling into Shane’s chest like he didn’t just hit him. “Don’ say that shit in front of him again,” Daryl mutters resentfully. “It’s the third damn bar y’all ‘ve been kicked outta this month. Can’t get a drink in this town no more.”

Shane rolls his eyes. “I swear I’ll never tell your brother you’re the finest piece of ass I’ve ever had again.”

That’s not all he said, and they both know it. In Shane’s defence, he wouldn’t have been so…graphic if Merle hadn’t called him a damn pig. After that, it was all just a pissing contest.

One offhand comment about how good Daryl looked on his knees with a thick cock between his pretty lips (what, it was the _truth_ ) — _that’s_ what broke Merle. The fists came flying and it all went to hell.

He could have held back. Maybe he should have. In the end, he didn’t because he was still not as good a man as he hoped to be.

And Merle pissed him off.

Still, it seems his apology is enough for Daryl. At least for now.

“Asshole,” he says again without any heat. His fingers trace the bruise around Shane’s eye gently. His brow creases and the look of concern on his face makes Shane’s heart melt all over again.

_For you, darlin’, I’ll be a better man._

Even if it means playing nice with that asshole Merle.

“Does it hurt?” Daryl asks.

“Nah,” Shane grins, leaning down to chase another kiss. “I’m good, babe. I’m real good.”


End file.
